You get a lot of erroneous tags when you're a Newcastle United supporter.

Whilst I'm reliably informed by my elders (who span many a footballing persuasion) that a time existed when we were, comfortably, the nation's second team, I'm now normally reminded about how entertaining we are to watch from a far.

That's not entertaining in a “you score three goals, we'll score four” way, but entertaining in more of a “That old man's set his trousers on fire! Now he's fallen in a lake! Holy s*** mate, that's Joe Kinnear!” kind of way. Still though, it gets the occasional free drink when you're boozing outside of the North East. Chin-chin.

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Another terrific stereotype of the Sky Sports official Geordie Nation™ is that we're a demanding bunch up here. Such is our undying thirst for success, we'll heap gallons and gallons of thoroughly unreasonable pressure on any soul foolish enough to get labelled our manager, and whilst we don't expect our players to win every single game they play, we do at least expect them to nearly win every single game they play – allowance made for freak occurrences, officiating incompetence, and teams fielding Adam Le Fondre. Apparently.

We've got a god given right to win things here, and we're furious we haven't, so furious in fact that we hounded Sam Allardyce out of his stewardship without ever giving him a fair crack of the whip. He swept in on a £26m wind of change, brining with him such footballing heavyweights as Claudio Cacapa, Mark Viduka and David Rozehnal, won a blockbusting 8 out of 24 games, and was then inexplicably chased out of town by a pitchfork wielding mob of uncivilised Northerns for absolutely no good reason at all. What a total pack of t**** we are.

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I can vividly remember The Daily Mail's Martin Samuel, who you'll all recognise as that one from The Sunday Supplement who looks like a 5 year old's drawing of Henry VIII, calling us out on our “unrealistic expectations of fantastic football”, even though we had a squad that was no where near capable of that. Quite right Martin, if only we'd given Big Sam more time to find the perfect way to get Alan Smith and Geremi to gel, we'd have probably made a late surge for the title – THAT TITLE WE SO DEMAND.

So you can imagine my surprise this weekend when I went filtering through all the pre-match hot air for Newcastle's visit to West Ham, that I found the same journalist throwing his dictaphone out of the pram in an effort to have Allardyce removed from his current job. “Chelsea won the Champion's League with Bosingwa at centre-back!” bellows Martin, as he tries to explain how a catastrophic run of injuries shouldn't excuse West Ham getting rolled over by Manchester City.

For hundreds of words he frothed at the mouth, perfectly illustrating his arguments with pictures of Andy Carroll sat on a box in training and Mark Noble getting out of a shower – Tactical ineptitude, awful signings, lousy football, “Sam Allardyce is finally being exposed” claimed William from London in the comments.

Well, on behalf of the topless, stottie-eating, mad drunk sh***ers that the Mail Online's core audience imagines everyone in Newcastle is, allow me to be the first to thank Martin Samuel for getting to the bottom of this one. I've no doubt in my mind that this is a case of a once great manager falling from grace, and is absolutely not simply just a delusional, gobs***e, chancer finally swinging his managerial wrecking ball around at a club that's supported by some influential national journalists. I've got the pitchfork to prove it.